


The Last Angel

by Shay_Moonsilk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley Met Before The Fall (Good Omens), Fighting, Gen, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Little brother Aziraphale, M/M, Major Character Injury, Memory Loss, but the angels don't know how, everyone loves Aziraphale, no one can say no to Aziraphale, sibling dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2020-10-06 21:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: Before the Fall, Before the Earth, Before ArmageddonShe made the last Angel: AziraphaleAnd the angels swore to protect him.Some did a better job then others. It's a shame he can't remember the one that helped him the most.The Prompt: Crowley protects Aziraphale during the Great War, but he's still badly injured. The Archangels wipe his memory to help him cope with the pain, and send him to Earth where he doesn't remember Crowley. Only vague memories of love and pain - until Armageddon and a body-swap restore him.





	1. The Last Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mamabearray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamabearray/gifts), [SebastianMoranhasarrived](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SebastianMoranhasarrived/gifts).

> Another chapter!!! The HARDEST PART was having to keep typing 'crawly' and not 'crowley' rip me

Before there was Armageddon. Before there was a war to separate Heaven and Hell. Before there was an Earth. Before there was quantifiable time. 

Before.

There’s a saying about the ‘Good Old Days’. Older human generations refer to this when they long for what is perceived to be a simpler time. It’s a hoax - there was never a simpler time. There has never been a simpler time. There has only ever been time. 

When Angels reminisce and long for a simpler time, they long for the moments before Questions were Asked, before demons fell. They longed for the time where everyone shared a genuine excitement for creation. 

For the time immediately after Creation. Specifically, the Last Creation. 

When someone looks into the night sky, they see cloudy skies filled with light pollution. But if they can drive to the middle of a desert outside of any city or major town - well, they would be quite unsafe. But suppose they take reasonable precautions, and they manage to travel far beyond the reach of any civilization, and they would be treated to the sight of stars in the sky. 

To the lone observer, the stars look like they were thrown, haphazardly about to form random shapes and clusters. 

This isn’t the case. 

Angels hung the stars, and angels placed the stars. 

One, in particular, took great pride in his work. He shouldn’t - Pride is Not Good, but he also didn’t care. He worked with Gabriel and Raphael to place the stars about. It was difficult work, it was time consuming work. But it was good work, and it was fulfilling. 

There weren’t days yet, but they had an understanding that time needed to have pauses and lulls, to make the active parts more important. It was during a lull that they were summoned back to the Glorious Kingdom of Heaven. Something special was happening. They appeared, joining the other choirs of Angels, all adjoined in white robes. 

She was encouraging them to take on humanoid forms, to better prepare them for the upcoming creation of Earth. None of them really knew what that meant, but they went along with it all the same. He followed Raphael and Gabriel to the center - they got to take their spots with the other Archangels, and watch all looked up. She was indescribable - She had no form. She was shining light that illuminated the entire amphitheatre that every angel occupied. 

Around him, Angels bustled and whispered in excitement, and he knew why. They were only ever called altogether when it was time to welcome a New Angel. Welcoming New Angels was exciting - especially because they had all thought that there were no more Angels left to welcome. There hadn’t been a new one in quite some time. 

They all hear a voice, it shines at them as the light glistens so brightly. They have formed a circle, waiting in wonder for their new sibling. 

And She speaks to them. 

_ This is the last Angel. Be careful with him. You are not getting a new one if you break him.  _

She has an odd sense of humor - She is the only one with a sense of humor. 

The rest of the angels aren’t ready yet. 

But none of them are paying mind to what She says, because they are distracted by the great burst of light that fills the amphitheatre. It burns before settling, and in the middle rests the last Angel.

He’s adorable. 

Four wings, round, and beautiful blond curls. The archangels get to welcome him first, and he takes advantage of the privilege. Gabriel and Michael step forward first to give their little brother warm hugs, and then it’s his turn. The new angel fits perfectly under his chin, curls tickling his nose. He doesn’t want to let him go. He wants to hoard this new angel all to himself. He knows that this is a sign of Greed - he doesn’t care. 

Uriel and Raphael are next, wrestling their new angel away from him, and he’s forced to let him go. The Angel smiles at him, and that smile makes his metaphorical heart swell. 

She’s speaking again, this time singing the New Angel into all their hearts. 

_ This is Aziraphale.  _

\---

Aziraphale doesn’t have a job yet - apparently he’s going to be very important once Earth is made, but that means he doesn’t have much to work on at the moment. So he spends his time around the other angels. He joins the different choirs, even though most of them are beyond his rank. But whenever an angel begins to tell him no, all he has to do is give them a  _ look _ . It’s a look where he widens his eyes, pouts his lips, and  _ wobbles.  _ No Angel has the ability to say no to that look. That includes the archangels. 

Aziraphale has begged to join them amongst the stars, and none of them know how to tell him no. Eventually this will be a problem, but for now Gabriel has asked him to show Azirphale around. 

He does. He’s been watching Aziraphale try to find his place with the other choirs, with the rest of the Angels. Everyone is nice to him - no one can dare treat him with anything less than pure love for the youngest Angel of the Heavenly Host - but he hasn’t quite found a groove. He isn’t expected to, but it makes him so sad that the others feel awkward and distance themselves. 

Which is where he comes in. He guides Aziraphale through the cosmos, showing off every nebula he helped make. It impresses Aziraphale, who makes cooes and gasps and fawns over everything. It boosts his Ego, which is Bad, but he doesn’t care. 

“I think you can help me with something,” He whispers conspiratorially to Aziraphale, who lights up with joy. Finally, the newest angel is being  _ asked _ to do a job! 

“What is it?” Aziraphale asks, smiling up at him. “I can do it!”

“I know you can,” He agrees. He leads Aziraphale through the process of constructing stars, how to build them, how to create them. Aziraphale mimics him, practices, and creates. Once he decides that Aziraphale has practiced enough, he and Aziraphale work on his next project. 

Aziraphale then helps him construct a star - two stars. They release them and send them into their rightful place, where they revolve around each other. Aziraphale gives a delighted  _ laugh _ at the sight and does a little  _ wiggle  _ that he just  _ adores.  _

In that moment he knows he would do almost anything for this angel, everything else be damned. 

Which he soon will be. 


	2. Choices

He says that he didn't so much as fall as saunter vaguely downstairs. That he didn't mean to fall, just hung out with the wrong people. All he ever did was ask questions. 

The newly formed demon is the one with the first recorded instance of a euphemism. 

This is true in the same way that a tsunami is considered a wave. 

Asking questions is what he says he did, but this was his question to Her _ : What gives you the right to tempt them into destruction? You think if I made them, I wouldn't make them better?  _

It's hubris, the pride, the greed of it all. 

And he didn't so much as hang out with the wrong people as he listened with rapt attention to everything said to him. Yes, someone should teach Her a lesson. Yes, the status quo was wrong. Why did an Angel need to have the same job for all eternity? There was no will? No choice? Would that be so bad?

It causes him to go against his closest siblings, the other archangels and that does hurt. It hurts to meet Gabriel in battle, to swing his demonic weapon at Michael. These were his closest companions. They fight him harshly, but with tears in their eyes. That is symbolic of most of the battlefield. 

The first recorded war of all time is of a divided house falling. Some will fall literally, but everyone falls metaphorically. 

Crawly is his new name. It doesn’t quite fit yet, but that’s not his most pressing concern. His most pressing concern is looking after himself in that moment at staying  _ alive _ . On all sides he is attacked - but the desperation to keep himself alive is what keeps him going. He fights viciously, cutting down his former siblings, former friends. It’s breaking his heart. He doesn’t have a heart. Both these things are true. 

Somehow he manages to cut through the throng of Angels. He takes cover, taking the chance to catch his breath and plot his next move. There’s a path, he can see it now. It’s just before him. No one is there. If he can follow it, that will spell his escape and reprieve from this utter nightmare. 

But before he can take it, his ears chance on something else. Something horrible. It’s the cry of an Angel in utter  _ agony _ \- not like the Angels around them fighting. And he recognizes that angel, and his whole body goes  _ cold.  _

_ Not him.  _

_ Not Aziraphale.  _

What is he even doing out there? He shouldn’t be fighting. This is no place for an angel. But he isn’t an angel. Aziraphale isn’t his responsibility. Is he his keeper? No. 

But his body doesn’t move anywhere closer to that path, and he’s already groaning at himself because he can’t just abandon the last angel to his fate. 

Just because he’s decided he’s had enough of Her, enough of Heaven, does not mean that he can turn his back on his angel. Not when they had put up stars together, and he had just looked so  _ happy.  _ Not to the angel that just wanted to make friends and have somewhere to belong. Who would  _ pout _ and  _ wobble _ until you gave him  _ exactly _ what he wanted but then he would do the cutest  _ wiggle _ and you couldn’t even be upset that you were manipulated. That angel didn’t belong on this battlefield. 

And he was a demon now, but he still couldn’t  _ leave  _ him. 

Crawly tore off in the direction of the scream, ducking low to avoid his allies and enemies. He went as fast as he could - heading in the direction the screams that were increasing in both volume and intensity. The pacing increased in correlation with the screaming. Just what was happening? Why was no one else doing anything? 

Finally, he found Aziraphale. 

And was  _ immediately _ horrified. 

There were three demons - all newly formed - laughing at the pain they were causing. Aziraphale was in the middle, shaking and crying out in  _ pain _ . They were beating him and he was  _ bleeding _ a  _ horrible _ red. His thigh looked  _ horribly _ mangled and his face was rapt with pain and sadness. 

But that wasn’t even the worst part. 

His back was covered in blood, and two of his wings were  _ mangled _ . But that was better than the lower two, and Crawly had to resist vomiting at the sight of his lower two wings completely  _ mutilated _ . They were obviously beyond saving. The three demons had Aziraphale pinned, and were tearing into the feathers for the  _ sport  _ of it. 

Crawly saw red. Without thinking, he lunged into the fray, knocking all three back. He was protected by the element of surprise - after all, the demons would have expected for him to join in, not attack them. He made quick work stabbing the first demon, and throwing the corpse at the second demon to buy him enough time to finish off the third. The third demon lunged at him, but Crawly put him in a chokehold and made quick work of snapping his neck. Finally, the second demon came for him, but he lunged with his sword to kill him. 

The whole altercation took less than a full minute. 

Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice - he was struggling just to catch his breath. He shook at the exertion. 

“Hey, hey, Aziraphale,” Crawly called out for him, but there was no acknowledgement. Finally, the angel managed to look up at him. His eyes were still full of tears, and he shook at the exhaustion and stress. Crawly 

“Hey, Aziraphale, yeah, that’s it - just look at me, yeah?” Aziraphale whimpered, trying to move away from him, and for the first time Crawly actively regretted falling. Of  _ course _ Aziraphale was scared of him. 

“No, hey shhh shh shh it’s alright,” He soothed, brushing his hands on Aziraphale’s arms and shoulders. Simultaneously he was trying to calm him and get him standing. Crawly kept gentling him, kept repeating that it was alright until Aziraphale’s gasping breaths managed to die down slightly. 

“There we go, that’s it,” He pulled Aziraphale along, and the angel stumbled along, trying to follow him. “Aziraphale - you need to run, alright? You can’t stay here. You need to run.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were unfocused, and he was clearly in shock. Gently, Crawly cupped his hands around his face and looked into his eyes. Slowly, Aziraphale focused back on him. 

“You need to run,” He said, enunciating each word intentionally, “You need to run, until you’re back at the Gates of Heaven. They’ll heal you.” Crawly looked up the path, realizing that it was left alone. “Run that way,” He pointed out, “I’ll stay here and make sure you can get back. But you need to go now!” 

It looked like the angel was trying to form words to thank him, but there wasn’t time. Already Crawly could hear demons approaching them. “Go now!” He pushed at Aziraphale, urging the angel to run. 

Thankfully he  _ listened _ \- and Crawly spent precious seconds watching him run shakily in the direction the demon had pointed out. He had to trust that Aziraphale would be able to make it back. The demon focused himself, and turned his attention to the approaching demons. Throughout the night he lied as his new allies came to him. They asked what he was doing so far from the carnage. 

“The path behind me,” He would say, “Goes straight up to the heavenly gates. I’m here to catch any wounded angels, and finish them off.” 

Most demons are not bright. They believe his lie, snicker, and head back to the instant gratification of the battle. 

Crawly firms his stance as they leave, knowing with dread that he was doing the right thing. 

A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. 

\-------

Recovery after the war is an agonizing process. 

Aziraphale is slow to recover, and it breaks Gabriel and Michael to watch. Two of his four wings have to be severed - they try to keep the angel unconscious for the process, but he  _ woke up  _ and had to be held down. 

The screams would haunt the angels for the rest of Time. 

How he had been able to make it back safely, Gabriel would never know. The strength he had to have was truly ineffable. 

_ Somehow _ , he was resting now, in a healing trance as his back recovered. If Gabriel could have it his way, his little brother would sleep for as long as he needed, even if that meant for the next thousand years. But that wasn’t up to him. The Almighty would be making the earth soon, and Aziraphale was supposed to be important for that. They were going to have to wake him up. 

“We can’t let him keep hurting,” Michael whispered to him. They were both standing over Aziraphale’s bed, watching over him. And Gabriel agreed. But what could they do? 

“There’s another way,” Uriel murmured. They both looked to her. 

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asked. 

“He’s resting now,” Uriel explained, “In a trance. We could simply… adjust his memories. Save him from remembering what he suffered in the War.”

“We can’t just remove memories of War,” Sandalphon argued, looking angry at the very thought. “There would be a huge gap for him.”

“We wouldn’t be able to just remove the War,” Michael breathed. 

Gabriel looked at them all. They seemed to all be on the same page. In that moment, he wished that his brother could help explain, but he was Gone. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks again.

Michael looks at him imploringly. “We have to remove all his memories,” she said, “It’s the only way he can do his job now.” 

He felt  _ horrified.  _

“It’s a kindness,” Sandalphon argued, as if he could read Gabriel’s mind. “If nothing else, then to not remember losing the wings.”

They all shudder at that. As the highest ranking, they had been made with six. Every other angel had at least four. Their little brother had had four, and they had been so  _ beautiful _ , like a dove’s (though doves didn’t exist yet). But now he only had two, and no  _ other _ angel had to suffer that. None of the angels would be able to look Aziraphale in the eye - it would just too much and remind them all of how badly they had failed to protect him. 

“He wouldn’t know to miss anything,” Uriel added, and even Michael nodded. 

Gabriel did not want to make this call. But they were looking to him. And if he couldn’t protect Aziraphale during the fighting, maybe he could protect him now. 

“Alright, do it.” He decided. 

And it was done. 

\------

The angel wakes up, feeling very sore. But also warm, with the sensation of comfort and safety. It’s rather nice. 

“Good morning, Aziraphale!” A voice calls cheerfully. 

Slowly, the angel pushes up, sitting against many soft things. Looking around, the first impression is that everything is very white. There are other people there, looking very serious. The tallest one gives a wide smile. 

“My name is Gabriel, and I’m an Angel!” He says, giving a wide smile. “Here is Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon, also angels” The angel nods to the others, and each gives a nod when their name is said. 

“Your name is Aziraphale, you are also an angel.” Gabriel adds. 

Aziraphale. What a nice name. Well, hopefully. 

“Hello,” Aziraphale says, thinking his name over. He gives them all a smile, lifting his arms. He doesn’t know why he is doing this, but instinct is telling him to. Something is telling him that’s supposed to get ‘a hug’ and he doesn’t know what that is, but it sounds rather lovely. 

None of them make a movement, and after a moment Aziraphale lowers his arms, blushing. What was he expecting? How embarrassing. 

What he doesn’t know is what they are thinking.

_ He’s adorable,  _ is the thought running through Gabriel’s mind - and he’s not alone. And it  _ hurts _ so much that their little brother doesn’t remember them, doesn’t remember his own name. That he holds out his arms because he  _ remembers _ on some level how they all hugged him close when he was created in front of all of them. But they don’t deserve to hug him. If they had done their jobs, he wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. 

“You are a principality,” Gabriel continues, making no movement to go any closer. “The almighty is making something important downstairs, and She needs you down there to make sure everything is going smoothly.” 

“Oh, well, alright then,” Aziraphale smiles at him. “I guess I should get a wiggle on then!” 

“Yes,” Uriel says shortly, and has to walk out of the room quickly. Her emotions are getting the better of her, Gabriel can see that plainly. 

But Aziraphale only sees someone act short with him, and leave. His heart falls a little. Is she annoyed with him? They seem annoyed with him. 

“You’ll need to stay down there,” Sandalphon adds, “It’s important to your mission.” 

Aziraphale is nodding. That seems to make sense. And he doesn’t mind the idea of being away from heaven - it seems rather sterile. 

Sandalphon is feeling like a coward. They can’t have Aziraphale walking around. It’s too painful for the rest of the Host. Too much of a reminder that they failed their little brother. They cannot have that. So Aziraphale will make a home on Earth. That’s okay - once they figure things out, they can bring him home again. 

That will have to be enough for now. 

\----

Aziraphale is handed a sword. He hates it. He doesn’t know why, but holding it makes him feel ill. Thankfully, he gets his chance to give it away very quickly. 

It seems that the humans weren’t supposed to eat the apples - which is odd, because they got to eat everything else, but he’s only been alive for not very long now so it’s not exactly his place to question it. And Gabriel was very clear with him about not questioning anything. 

So he stands atop a gate as Adam and Eve make their way into the harsh-looking desert beyond the garden. 

It seems like a waste to have two people who barely did anything wrong leave their home forever. 

From below, a serpent is eagerly crawling up the wall. He thought he recognized his angel. And there he was! How fortuitous. Crawly remembered that Aziraphale was going to be stationed on Earth, and had bargained with Satan for permission to come up. Lucifer had scoffed. Crawly was a favorite, and one of his right-hands in the uprising. He could have whatever he wanted. 

So Crawly went up to make trouble, in the hopes that he would get to get to find the angel up there. And he did! 

He transformed back into his man-shape. Looked over at Aziraphale, and frowned a little. There wasn’t any recognition, but maybe he was being watched? And oh, Aziraphale didn’t look so good. Only the two wings, as he feared. Also he had the most dreadful frown on his face. Aziraphale shouldn’t frown, not when his smile was so adorable. 

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” He announced. 

Aziraphale didn’t even react to his voice though. But then the angel turned to him, looking confused. Then he asked for his name, and Crawly felt his insides turn to  _ stone _ .

Aziraphale didn’t  _ remember him. _

_ What the heaven happened to you?  _


	3. Cold Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was quite the strong writers block keeping me from going, and a worry that I didn't have the entire plot realized yet. I decided to just write in spite of that, because I didn't want to leave this unfinished forever. But I hope, if anyone is still reading this, that they like it.

“You  _ what _ ?”

“ _ I gave it away _ !” Aziraphale wailed. 

_ Oh no, _ Crawly thought,  _ He’s helpless. I love him. _

Aziraphale was rambling about the cold, and Eve expecting, and the imposing darkness befalling them, all to explain why it was perfectly logical for him to give away his one weapon that he had been armed with to fight the likes of him. Not that he needed to defend himself to Crawly. He had already decided that he would, quite simply, look after him. But Crawly had a suspicion. Even before the war, Aziraphale had never wanted to hang around the armory. He had always begged to accompany him and Gabriel into the stars. Or to supervise training with Michael, never to participate. 

And they could never refuse that  _ pout _ . 

What had he been doing anywhere near the battlefield during the rebellion? He had always been meant for Earth. For the Humans. They had been instructed as such.

Gabriel must have given him the sword as a means of self-protection. It was a very Gabriel move - hand over the sword, expect Aziraphale to be perfectly fine defending himself with it. Part of him wondered, and really couldn’t wonder for very long or else he’d go mad, if Aziraphale had been sent out to the battlefield for lack of options. It had been a numbers game towards the end, for both sides. Trying to throw whomever they could against each other to see what could work. 

Well, if Aziraphale was going to be left alone to protect humanity for heaven, Crawly was going to protect Aziraphale. 

They meet over the years, and Crawly learned to his horror that Aziraphale had been  _ staying _ on Earth, with no trips whatsoever upstairs except for twice-century reports to his superiors.

“They said it was important to my job,” Aziraphale explained, calm as you please. 

The angel didn’t know enough to think anything of it. But Crawly was fuming. He remembered whole conversations with Gabriel, before his fall, where the archangel would  _ say to him  _ how he would make sure Aziraphale would always stay up with the Host, with  _ them _ , and they would send him down occasionally. To just leave him there? With no memories? Cut off from the host? 

Angels are creatures of flock, of community and kin. They belong with each other. Aziraphale belonged with the angels that had all promised to protect him. But if they wouldn’t, then it was up to him, a demon, to do the job. 

Yet the unwavering loyalty to heaven frustrated him. How Aziraphale just went along with the Flood, went along with the smiting, watching Jesus get nailed to the cross. Telling him that he isn’t meant to Question, just needing to go along. He fell in line, like a good little soldier. And his lack of experience was so painful for Crowley. 

He couldn’t bring himself to spend too much time with his angel before getting too upset, but he does what he can. For the other angels don’t seem inclined to check up on him. 

In Rome he was having a rough temptation. Which meant that he was not in the mood for Aziraphale’s cheer. He just couldn’t handle it. Not now. 

“Still a demon?” Aziraphale quipped. 

Later, he would regret snapping at the angel. He was the only other supernatural companion that Aziraphale had. It wasn’t his fault that the angel was excited to see him. Aziraphale would have been well within his rights to storm off for good at his attitude. But he there, the same bright little spot that he always is,  _ wiggling _ and  _ nattering _ on about  _ oysters  _ of all things. As he spoke about Petronius and a certain restaurant, Crowley started to catch it. The near-pleading look in his eyes. The want to ask. The leaning in. The loneliness. 

_ There  _ was that angel that Crowley can’t say no to. Nothing had changed there. Even if the angel can’t seem to remember him. But Crowley couldn’t say no to him, he never could. 

But certain things he seemed to have held onto, at least subconsciously. They met again as knights in Wessex, and Aziraphale just looked so  _ unhappy  _ to hold that sword that Crowley wouldn’t even pretend to fight him. Everything about Aziraphale’s stance is off, it was all improper. The dislike for his weapon was so apparent he could nearly feel it. Crowley hated seeing him hold a sword too. It reminded him of the battlefield. Of the demons. Of Aziraphale, collapsed, on the field with his wings in disarray.

But Crowley was particularly adept at compartmentalizing when he would see something he could not stand (proof being in some rather unfortunate plants in his home), and he forced those thoughts in the back of his mind and locked them in a proverbial safe that he had no intention to ever uncover. Instead, he brought up the idea of an arrangement. 

If they had an arrangement, a quid pro quo, he could make sure Aziraphale didn’t pick up another sword in his life. He could make sure that the promise to protect him was upheld, and keep him safe properly. 

But Aziraphale was so resistant, so unsure of pursuing something that would make his life easier, all because of misplaced loyalty to a Host too embarrassed of having allowed their brother to be hurt that they pushed him aside. He stormed off in a huff, and Crowley realized that he must not push Aziraphale farther than his angel was willing to go. 

Crowley retreated, starting small. They met at little shows and shops, and Aziraphale found joy in that. They start to share meals together, remembering how nice Rome had been, and his heart  _ soared  _ to see the joy on the angel’s face when he tried something he liked. Aziraphale loved all food - he loved the work humans put into creating it, the different ways flavors will mesh together. It’s all delightful to him. Crowley didn’t care much to eat, but it was worth going to these places to see the angel so happy. Anything to keep him from remembering the angel he found bleeding and broken on the battlefield. 

Finally, Aziraphale agreed to the arrangement and Crowley kept the tasks in the beginning small. He ignored Aziraphale’s whining about horses and cheated at the coin toss - he made sure he took the more intense missions that had the potential to hurt Aziraphale. 

But then Aziraphale looked so sad that no one was there to see Hamlet, and Crowley had always been a sucker for the eyes. 

Fine. His treat. 

\-----

The less that can be said about Paris in 1793 the better. Aziraphale chained in the Bastille was a sight that would forever be burned into his memory. Hearing that Aziraphale left the safety of London for  _ food  _ made him furious. He wanted to take the angel over his knee for the impertinence, but also. It was his own fault. Crowley spoiled Aziraphale, and had been for a millenia. Because there was no one else around that remembered the promise She had made them all give:  _ Look after him. You don’t get another if you break him.  _

And then Aziraphale switched clothing with the executioner, and Crowley watched with gleeful vindication as he was carted off to meet the same fate as the 999 victims he had beheaded. Aziraphale had no way of knowing this, but Crowley may have put in a word or two to Hastur and Ligur about a certain soul coming their way. Demons were all about revenge, afterall. 

\-----

Gabriel was so  _ excited _ . Angels have started asking for their little brother again. They seem to all be more comfortable with the two-winged angel again! 

It was time to bring their Aziraphale home. It would be wonderful, Gabriel was sure of it! Aziraphale will have a hard time settling in, for sure, but they owed him so much. Gabriel had already promised the rest of the Host that he, the archangel, would personally look after him and help him adjust. After all, Aziraphale had done such a great job on earth! So many blessed miracles, so much work for Her name. 

Worthy of a medal for certain. The rest of the archangels agreed with him with pride for their brother. 

He and Sandalphon arrived to greet their little brother, enthusiastically informing him that he would get to return home! They gave him the medal, but Aziraphale seemed less than enthused. 

“I was going to open this bookshop,” Aziraphale says, picking up one of the oddly-shaped material objects. There was  _ love _ emanating from him to them, which was just odd. 

Well, he had spent a fair amount of time on Earth and picked up a few odd quirks as a result. Gabriel knew that Aziraphale would let go of those weird habits soon enough after enough time with his flock, where he belonged. 

“Michael will use this space,” Gabriel informed him, ignoring the  _ sadness _ that came from Aziraphale as a result. But that made no sense. Gabriel had worked so  _ hard  _ to convince Michael to take Aziraphale’s place on Earth! 

She had eventually agreed - it wasn’t hard. They all felt bad for sending him down and letting so much time pass between check-ins. Aziraphale deserved a break. Especially because he had to keep looking out for the demon Crowley! It was a wonder that their brother was going so strong - given his isolation from the rest of heaven, and his two wings, and having to be around the humans so much. They would have to take shifts, to make sure that no angel would stay down here as long as Aziraphale had again. Speaking of, Aziraphale’s wings would certainly need a good preening. It was unlikely he had been able to reach certain parts without help. 

“I’ll need to go to my tailor, and then we’ll be off,” Gabriel said, grinning at Aziraphale, who did not return the smile. “Join us?”

Sandalphon nodded, encouragingly, but Aziraphale missed it for a look around his shop. “Oh, no thank you,” Their principality demurred, looking about the space. “I’ll wait back here for you.” 

Both their shoulders slumped slightly. “Well, alright,” Gabriel said, “We’ll be back soon.” 

Though as they went to the shop, Gabriel overheard quite the shocking conversation. Who knew that his tailor’s shop was right next to where the demon Crowley held his meetings with other beasts of Hell? How fortuitous! 

Clearly, Aziraphale was far too important to their work on Earth, and Gabriel was going to have to think of an alternative to keep him in heaven. But this was going to require extensive paperwork to log. 

It would be another two hundred years before he remembered to check back in with Aziraphale, with a warning about Armageddon at hand. 

\-----------------------------

What almost happened at the bookshop had been too close of a call for Crowly. Though, it begged the question for him. Why had he tried so hard to prevent Aziraphale from going back to heaven? Aziraphale was an angel, he belonged with his brethren. But the thought of Aziraphale leaving his sight made him infuriated. There was a possessiveness that he hadn’t had a name for before. But now that he knew it was there, it was plain as day. He had gone from wanting to protect Aziraphale in a general sense to having a very selfish reason to do so. 

“What if it all goes wrong?” He speculated. Next to him, Aziraphale busied himself with throwing feed to the ducks. His own mind was spinning. Protection was going to be vital if he wanted to have any kind of relationship with Aziraphale. Heaven hadn’t tried engaging the angel in years, they probably got caught up with a century-long marathon of psalms. That abandonment made his blood boil. Hell was still on his path, he needed them out of the way. 

Bringing up pears was a mistake. If Aziraphale got caught up thinking about a certain kind of food, he wouldn’t be able to move past it unless he got to eat the food he was thinking of. Though any plans to get him pears fell to the wayside. Fraternizing? That was what Aziraphale thought they were doing? 

Crowley was furious. He did not spend thousands of years protecting Aziraphale for him to label their relationship like this. 

They didn’t speak for another sixty years. 

\----------------------------------

Aziraphale was lonely. There hadn’t been any assignments since he had been given his medal. There hadn’t been any coin tosses from Crowley. No meals, alternate rendezvous, nothing. 

At night, the loneliness was so crippling it brought tears to his eyes. Without any reason to leave his home, he would meander about his bookshop for months at a time, not venturing outside. There was no need to. If it hadn’t been for a few discreet gentleman, misplacing his loneliness for a sexuality crisis, Aziraphale didn’t know what he would have done. 

\-----------------------------

Sleep was healthy, but a century of sleeping was not. It did give Crowley perspective, however, to realize that he had gone about asking for his favor in all the wrong ways. He knew how to get Aziraphale to say yes. And outright asking with an ultimatum was not the way to go. 

When he went outside and got the year, his insides went cold. Sixty-five years? Did he abandon Aziraphale for decades? Cursing, he threw himself back into the work he had missed, desperate to catch up and make sure he hadn’t missed anything major. Hastily, he took credit and accepted whatever ridiculous commendations Hell wanted to give, but all this was a blur to make sure that he got to the more important goal - Aziraphale’s safety. 

He had been going to discreet clubs, just social, but it made him both jealous and relieved in equal turn. 

There was the matter of a Nazi double-cross, but taking out Nazis would always be an acceptable use of time. 

For decades of abandonment, Crowley apologized by rescuing books and saving Aziraphale from discorporation. It would be a start. 

\-----------------------------

Crowley went too fast. He realized this when he woke up from his very long nap, but it wasn’t easy to hear said to him. But Aziraphale’s feelings made sense, he had been living on his own for a very long time. He was a flock creature without a flock. There was no group of angels keeping him in their fold. Everything he was understanding about relationships was happening at his pace, and that wasn’t something the demon could rush. If Aziraphale found himself interested in a relationship with him, that would be incredible. But for now, they were friends. 

That was enough. 


End file.
